Voyages of the Blue Rogue, Year One
by yeswonderful
Summary: Captain Nuori Sken of The Blue Rogue and her adventurer merchant crew of vermin sail the seas in the world of Redwall. In this first year of their voyages, they leave the vermin Empire of the Vulpine Imperium in search of riches and adventure.
1. Prologue, Thermidor 25, 1731

This story takes place in the Redwall universe (which was created by the most amazing Brian Jacques), and begins in the Vulpine Imperium, an Empire of vermin in the oceans far north of Mossflower. Details about the Vulpine Imperium (often referred to as the VI), a world created by the great Retto and other fantastic RPers, can be found at **rovl_.org/vi_**

The characters are mostly of my own creation, developed over many years through RP at the VI. A few characters written by others on the VI will be making appearances in this first story arc and perhaps future stories. Credit will be given to the writers of those characters. If you have questions about the characters or about the VI, feel free to contact me or see the link provided below.

For maps and other information about the VI, visit the VI wiki: **rovl. org/vi_wiki/index. php**

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******Prologue**

**Also titled: An honest beast? Hardly.**

**..**

"So we have a ship and supplies. Now all we need is a crew." Sken tapped the rim of her flagon of ale with a claw, gazing across the rough-hewn, round oak table. Sitting across from the marteness was her business partner and close friend, Torrent Antonius. The dapper ferret look back at her over steepled fingers, a glass of cordial in front of him.

"And a heading," he added. Sken raised an eyebrow in mock surprise.

"You don't think 'sail into the wild blue yonder' is a good heading? I think it might tempt somebeasts."

"Only those with very good reason to get away from here—types we may not be particularly interested in having in our crew."

Sken looked hurt. "Am I not a beast who has very good reasons to get out of this place?"

Torrent sighed and shook his head as Sken took a sip, sharp, blue eyes twinkling over the top of the flagon.

"Yes," Torrent said. "But you are likely an exception in that you are an honest beast fleeing because the dishonest ones are after you, rather than the other way around."

"Honest?" Sken's boisterous laghter crowed through the near-empty tavern. "Hardly. You know me too well to say that with seriousness."

"You know what I mean," Torrent said in exasperation. "To get back on topic, I just think some sort of heading will help us draw in a good crew."

Sken raised a scarred paw in defeat. "Okay, okay. You're right. You also sound like you already have an idea, which means you're ahead of me in the matters of logistics, as usual."

"Not as usual as you think, ma'am," Torrent said with a respectful bow of his head. Sken snorted and rolled her eyes. The ferret continued after taking a sip of his cordial. "But I do have an idea. Take our goods for trade to Downel. Pick up wine there with our profits and sail to East Tookumberry—"

"East Tookumberry?" the marteness cut in, incredulous. "I am _not _trading with goodbeasts. Besides, the Navy has exclusive trading rights in return for protecting the silly woodlanders."

"They do?"

"Oh aye. Can't believe you haven't heard about that silly little monopoly. It should be illegal if you ask me. I never liked the smell of it when I was in the Navy, and now even less that I'm out and this place is being run by—" She stopped at a look of warning from Torrent. Sken looked about at the others in the tavern.

"_Misanthropy_," the marteness finished in a hissed whisper of disgust.

Torrent shrugged. "Well, if we can't go to Tookumberry, then we go to Merith Cove."

Sken shook her head. "They won't give a good price for Downel wine. And besides, I never said we can't go to Tookumberry."

"But then—"

"Think a bit more…_creatively_, my friend. Those woodlanders will give us a good price for the wine, and they also have an abundance of goods themselves."

Torrent looked confused. "You said we can't trade with them."

"Can't trade, aye. Raiding is a different matter altogether." Sken showed her teeth in a toothy grin. Torrent looked alarmed.

"The Navy protects them. We can't possibly…You're insane, you know that?"

The marteness shrugged and cocked her head to the side, pulling a silly face. "I've been called that so many times, I'm pretty sure it's true." She straightened her head and winked at the ferret. "But, insane or not, I haven't led you wrong yet, have I?"

The ferret looked thoughtfully into his glass. "Well, there was the time on the_ Skeered_ that you thought it'd be a good idea to teach me how to swim by dangling me off the deck by rope."

"You swam rather well, I thought," Sken said before taking another drink of ale.

"Only because I was being pursued by a school of sharks. My point is that, with Naval protection, these goodbeasts are untouchable."

Sken put her half-empty flagon down with a _thump_. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. "How long did you serve in the Navy, Torrent. A year?"

"About that, yes."

"A year. So, on a scale of one to ten, with ten being very knowledgeable and one being as ignorant as a sack of gibbering molebabes, what would you consider your knowledge of the workings of the Imperial Navy?"

Torrent opened his mouth, then closed it, working his jaw in annoyance. Sken grinned.

"I'd put you at about a two, myself. Just above the molebabes, the cute things. What would you say for me, hmm? Ten? No, probably a nine. Things have changed a bit since my time in…service." She trailed off, looking into the depths of her ale for a moment. Sken saw the shadows of dark memories in the amber liquid, faces of beasts long gone. The memories were old. The pain of them, however, resurfaced with a dull ache like that in her side where she had been pierced by a poisoned dagger wielded by a beast who had once been a friend but was no longer called such.

"Marm," Torrent said quietly. "Come back to me."

Sken shuddered and sighed, shaking her head as she pushed the thoughts away. She tipped the ale to her mouth and downed the remainder. When she was finished, the sparkle had returned to her bright, blue eyes.  
>"What would I do without you, Torrent?"<p>

The ferret shook his head. "I am naught but a friend looking out for my own."

"Either way, you're a good beast and more loyal than most." She paused and gave him a sincere smile. He returned it with a nod.

"Thank you."

A moment of silence passed between the two friends, not awkward, but rather a mutual understanding of the need for a pause in the conversation. Sken ran a paw through her messy headfur and continued.

"As I was saying, I know the ins and outs of what the Navy is doing down there. Even while I was in service, there were many holes in their so-called protection of the goodbeasts. With my knowledge of what's going on down there, as well as of Navy protocol, we can slip through the defenses and perform a very successful raid so long as we have a good crew. Which very nicely brings us back to our original purpose of this outing."

"You," Torrent said with a slight smile. "Are absolutely incorrigible."

"That's why you like me so much." Sken winked at the ferret. He sipped at his cordial before continuing.

"With the matter of our heading _determined_—if you can describe it as such—I suggest we first put an advert in the _Smelt_. We can also advertise verbally at the Navy and merchant docks and hand out information to anybeast interested."

"You go to the Navy docks. I don't want to run into any old acquaintances that might recognize me. Whether they're happy to see me or not, I really don't need any more mouths that could possibly tell the wrong beast who I am."

Torrent nodded. "A good point."

"Another place we could advertise would be in Market Square," Sken said. "Post fliers around and the like. That may be enough to draw in a good pool of beasts that we can test and choose from in the next few weeks before we launch the _Blue__Rogue_ for her maiden voyage."

The ferret finished his cordial and pulled out his pocket watch. "Quarter to three. We had better get back to the ship. Tanya will be returning with Caden soon."

Sken stood and stretched. "Aye, and that little imp will want to have another lesson in swordsmanship, knowing him."

"Takes after his mother," Torrent said with a smile as he stood.

The marteness quirked an eyebrow. "A bit too much for my liking, sometimes."

They left the tavern and entered the street. A stiff breeze off the harbor blew away the usual stench of the offal that drifted lazily down the streetside gutters. Sken breathed deeply the briny smell of the sea air.

"Soon we'll be out there again, Torrent. Back to where we belong."


	2. Chapter 1, Thermidor 31, 1731

Fog lay thick upon the harbor, shrouding the docked ships in a grey blanket. Tallship masts rose into the fog and disappeared within the soupy atmosphere. Ships bells clanged at the oncoming dawn, their ringing notes muffled.

Above the fog, atop the foremast of the schooner, _The __Blue __Rogue_, Sken watched the sun rise golden-orange over the harbor. Beyond the harbor's twin lighthouses, she could see the dark blue of the sea, shimmering in the morning light. She looked around her at the other mast tops peeking out of the fog, swaying and bobbing in the gentle waves of the harbor.

Several ships down the docks, a beast emerged from the fog, clambering to the crow's nest. The scrawny rat spotted Sken and waved.

"Strange mornin', ain't it?" he called across the top of the fog.

Sken waved back. "Aye, but it'll burn off soon. It's going to be hot come midmorning."

"I hope so," he said. "We're bound for Parva today. Don't wann be sailin' outta 'ere in this."

"Well, good tides to you," Sken called as she began to climb down to the deck. The rat's response of 'And to you!' was muffled as Sken descended into the fog. When she dropped to the dkec, she found her First Mate, Torrent, climbing up from one of the hatches.

"Oh, there you are," the ferret said, straightening his vest as he stood.

"Were you looking for me?" Sken asked.

"I was, yes. There's a Missertross gull in your office with a 'tross from the Merchant's Guild."

Sken rolled her eyes and made her way to the aft end of the ship, "Another one? Haven't I told them three times that I don't want to be part of their Guild? If I'm not back by the time the applicants get here, test them on knots to keep them busy."

Torrent raised his eyebrows. "Knots, Captain?"

Sken turned and continued to move to the aft end of the ship, walking backwards. "Yes, Torrent, knots. Every good seabeast should know their knots. If they don't, they can go home in time for morning tea."

Saluting, the ferret said, "Aye aye, Captain."

The marteness winked at him and turned around so that she was walking forward once more. She descended into the aft hatch and continued on to the ornate double doors of her office and quarters. Opening them, her eyes narrowed. Backed into the corner was a harassed-looking gull, its flight goggles askew and beak open in an indignant squawk. In front of the gull was Sken's son, Caden, a skinny, five year old albino wielding a knife at the bird, sharp teeth bared.

"Caden!" Sken barked. "Stand down and leave that bird alone!"

The albino whirled around. "But Mum! He was tryin' t'steal yer papers!"

Sken's gaze traveled to where her son's paw pointed to the large desk in the other corner of the room. Indeed, pieces of parchment were scattered about, several torn. On second glance at Caden, she noted that he held the other halves of the ripped parchment in his left, non-sword paw.

"No, Captain! He lies!" the bird cawed. "I deliver a message from the Merchant's Guild and that is all."

"Mum, he—"

"Caden, keep him there." The marteness strode forward and seized the messenger tote from the gull. She flipped it open and pulled out the messages he carried.

"Ma'am, Captain, those are personal messages," the gull protested. "It's illegal to—"

"Shut up, carrion bird! You're suspect of high treason!" Caden snarled, prodding the gull's chest with his knife. Sken gave her son an exasperated look.

"It's not high treason, Cade. Not even treason. Just possible theft and fraud. Careful where you point that knife, too."

"I tell you," the bird cried shrilly. "This is highly irregular and absolutely insulting. Desist from this barbaric behavior or I will have the Fogeys after you!"

"I quiver in my boots," Sken muttered as she rifled through the messages. She pulled out a folded piece of parchment and opened it, eyes scanning the script.

"Well, here's my 'tross. Looks official enough. Though, that doesn't explain why you went through my papers." The marteness looked up and quirked an eyebrow at the gull. He opened his beak and ruffled his neck feathers.

"I was merely picking up the mess that another beast left behind. They fled the room just before I entered."

Sken's eyes narrowed. "Another beast? There's no other beast on the ship save for my First Mate."

"Perhaps you should interrogate _him_ at swordpoint, then," the gull said huffily. "Call this imp off and give me my messages, Captain."

"Caden, put down your weapon," the marteness said. She pocketed the message and held out the tote for the gull. "What did the intruder look like?"

"Mum," Caden shrilled. "There wasn't an intruder. He's lyin—" The young marten was stopped by a sharp look from his mother. He lowered the knife to his side, but did not sheath it, glowering at the gull, who glared back at him before looking to the marteness.

"I tell you, they fled before I entered the room. A dark beast, small. Perhaps a rat, but I wouldn't say for sure. Now, let me take my leave, you barbaric beasts. I won't be answering any more of your questions."

Sken stepped aside for the gull to waddle from the room, pulling Caden out of the bird's way. She followed the gull up to the main deck where fog still swirled through the rigging. It tucked the tote under its wing and turned a sullen gaze to the marteness.

"You will be hearing from the Fogeys about this offense by noon, Captain. Good day."

"Good day to you, lyin' carrion bird!" Caden shouted and waved his knife as the gull spread its wings and lifted from the deck. Sken cuffed him lightly over the ears.

"Shush, child. No need to anger the bird any more than he already is."

"But Mum, he's lyin'! I tol' you what I saw, didn' I? Don' yer believe me o'er 'im?"

"Sometimes there's more to a story than just what you see. Come with me."

The two martens descended once more belowdecks. Sken herded her son into the office. "Get these papers together. Try to find the other halves of the ones that ripped. We need to find clues as to what they were looking for."

Caden fell to the task, eager to find clues to solve the mystery. Sken attempted to be discrete as she left the office, but her son looked up.

"Mum, where ya goin'?"

She smiled and winked. "Going to find more clues. It's a team effort. You keep at it, boyo."

Caden looked suspicious for a moment, but then grinned toothily. "Alright, Mum. Good luck."

Shutting the door behind her, she produced a key from her pocket and locked the door. It was dark belowdecks with only a lantern lighting the bottom of the hatch. Sken blew out the lantern and stood behind the steep stairs, listening into the darkness. She heard the creakings of the ship as it bobbed in the waves of the harbor. Water lapped around the _Rogue_'s hull in a cool, comforting embrace. Sken listened past the familiar noises, searching for something that did not match with the sounds of her ship.

There came a light shuffling to her left, amongst crates and barrels of yet-to-be-stowed supplies. She did not move, though her heart slammed in her chest and she had to force herself to keep her breathing deep and slow. The noise stopped. Her eyes searched in the darkness for any sort of movement, but all she could see were shadows.

She heard a sharp intake of breath behind her. Something slammed into Sken's head before she could turn, and she fell to the ground, dazed. A paw reached into her pocket, extracting the key. The assaulter ran to the office doors. Light streamed into the darkness as the doors were flung open.

"Caden," the marteness croaked, forcing herself to her footpaws. She staggered towards the office, but the deck seemed to heave towards her and she found herself on the ground once more. Shouting and crashing emitted from the office. Somebeast flung open the hatch from abovedecks.

"Captain," Torrent called down cheerfully. "I think all the applicants are here. I've had them start on their knots, but—Captain!"

The ferret thundered down the hatch, drawing his sabre. "Are you alright, Captain?"

Sken dragged herself to her footpaws once more and stumbled away from the hatch to the open office doors.

"Caden," she groaned again. There came another yell from the office, and a dark beast burst from the room, clutching a satchel in one paw, wielding a bloodied knife in the other. Torrent shoved the staggering marteness aside and went at the beast with his sabre. The beast ducked under the thrusting blade, sliding across the deck to the hatch. Caden then ran from the office, knife in one paw, the other bloody and holding his left ear from which blood streamed.

"Stop 'im!" the albino yelled. "He stole Mum's records!"

" 'Gates," Torrent hissed, turning quickly on his heel to go after the beast who had already started clambering up the ladder. Sken cursed and followed unsteadily after. She shook her head in an attempt to rid herself of the stars that burst on the edges of her vision.

"Mum, you okay?" Caden asked with concern. Sken pushed in front of him.

"I'll be fine. What did he take?"

"Yer important papers. The ones in the hidden drawer un'er yer desk."

Sken swore and forced her way to the top of the ladder where Torrent had already disappeared up to the main deck. She saw the dark beast, a black rat, sprinting across the deck, Torrent close behind. A gaggle of applicants were staring at the pursuit.

"You there!" Sken barked at them. "Get that rat! Injure him, but don't kill him. This is your first test."

They stared at her blankly for a moment, but then a grizzled, one-eyed wildcat standing at the front of the group unslung a crossbow from his shoulder. He quickly loaded a bolt into it and took aim. With a _tung_ the bolt was released. Sken watched the rat, who was running one moment and in a crumpled heap the next. Torrent was forced to leap over the squirming beast, so close was the ferret to the assailant. Sken ran to the rat, forcing down the nausea that was stemming from her head injury.

He was face down, but she flipped him over. The rat was struggling with a large pill in his paws. Sken tried to grab it away. Before she could, however, he had pushed it into his mouth and swallowed it. Foam formed in his mouth and he jerked several times before stiffening and going still. Sken swore and pulled the satchel from his arms. Torrent knelt next to her, breathing hard after his pursuit.

"Misanthropy, you think?" he said quietly.

"Who else?" Sken muttered, standing. "If their messenger doesn't return, they'll be even more suspicious. Though I think Vlad may already know it's me. This was just a formality."

"What makes you say that?"

Sken sighed and shook her head. "Just a feeling. When you know a beast as well as I did Vlad, you get to know partly how they do things. And I have my own means of figuring things out, too."

Torrent sheathed his sabre. "We'll have to call off the applicant test for today,then?"

" 'Gates, no," Sken said. She rubbed the back of her head where a hard lump had already formed. "That will only set us back. After this, we can't chance being here any longer than necessary. We need to be out of here before the end of the week."

She turned to the group of applicants, close to ninety in all, on the other side of the deck. They were beginning to talk amongst themselves, some slapping the wildcat on the back and laughing. He merely shrugged and slung his crossbow over his shoulder once more. Sken noticed Caden peering out from the hatch, the left side of his head completely red and his ear with a sizeable chunk taken out of it.

"See to Caden, if you would. I'm going to get started with these beasts."

Torrent nodded. "Aye, Captain."

Sken watched as the ferret trotted to the hatch and ushered Caden back down. A brief smile flitted across her face before she came to face the applicants, strolling towards them with her paws clasped behind her back.

"Well you sorry lot, looks like all but one of you failed your first test. Cat, step forward and state your name and occupation."

Stepping forward, the tall, bulky wildcat gave her an informal salute and a respectful nod.

"Amos Middlen, Cap'n. Formerly of the Imperial Army. I was a career Staff Sergeant. Retired as of last month."

The corner of Sken's mouth twitched, though she wished to curse aloud at her predicament. It was just her luck that somebeast who had a very high likelihood of recognizing her was applying for a position in the crew. He was already looking at her too intently for her comfort.

"Ah, an Army beast," she said, her voice belying none of her inner turmoil. "And well-practiced with the crossbow. What good fortune it was to have you here this morning. That rat was about to make off with some documents of great importance to me and this ship. Thank you, Mr. Middlen, for your quick and decisive action."

Amos tipped another informal salute to the marteness. "Call me Amos, Cap'n."

Sken gave a nod, then raised her voice to speak to the rest of the beasts assembled. "You shall call me Captain or Captain Sken while aboard my ship, _The __Blue __Rogue_. My First Mate, Torrent Antonius, gave you each four sections of rope with which to test your knot-tying abilities with four of the most basic yet crucial knots in sailing. I am going to inspect your knots at this time. If I approve of your skills, I would like you to scale the mainmast, then return to the deck and wait for further orders. If I don't approve, I will send you home. Is that clear?"

There came a mumbled chorus of "Aye-aye." Sken raised her voice. "I said, is that clear?"

"Aye-aye, Cap'n!"

"Very good," Sken said with a pleased smile. "Next time, let me hear you on the first response." She turned to Amos. "Mr. Middlen—Amos. Pick another beast from this lot and go belowdecks. You will find my First Mate. Ask him to show you where to find the spare burlap and ballast. I would like you to fill a sack of burlap with ballast and tie it to the body. Dump it in the harbor before the fog lifts and we're inundated with Fogeys who want to run an investigation on my ship because there's a body on the deck. We wouldn't be out of here before Humidor if that happened."

There came a bout of chuckles from the applicants. Fogeys were the law enforcement Faction of the Harbor and were not usually known for being very competent at their jobs. Amos grinned.

"Aye, Cap'n." He chose a large, scarred female monitor with a spear over her shoulder to help him. Sken watched them down into the hatch before she began her inspection of the knots.

* * *

><p>Torrent wiped away the last of the blood from Caden's fur. Caden held a compress to his left ear and glowered at his reflection in his knife he held in his paw. They were in the small infirmary, Caden perched upon one of the three tables in the room and Torrent standing in front of him.<p>

"I nearly had him," the albino marten muttered. "If I hadn't slipped onna piece o'parchment, he'd never a-sliced m'ear. I'd a-stick him wi' me knife."

"I can imagine," Torrent said, standing back to survey his work at cleaning up the marten.

"But you'd a-disemblobbled him nice an' good!" Caden exclaimed to Torrent. "Woulda taken yer sabre an' sliced open his guts."

"That's _disemboweled_, young Mr. Sken." Torrent soaked the bloodied rag in a basin of alcohol. He wring it out, then applied it to Caden's wound. The kit winced, but said nothing. _As __tough __as __his __mother_, Torrent thought.

There came a knock on the door frame of the infirmary. Torrent turned to see a fearsome female monitor and Amos standing in the doorway.

"Pardon us, sir," Amos said with a small bow. "But the Captain would like you to show us where we can find some ballast an' sailcloth for disposal o'the body on deck."

Torrent nodded. "I can do that. Caden, hold this cloth to your head. Keep pressure on it. I'll be back."

The ferret led the two adult beasts out of the room, leaving Caden to his own devices. The young marten sat for a few moments, making faces at himself in his knife blade. But, quickly boring of that, he hopped off the infirmary table and wandered into the hallway. He sliced at the air with his knife, his other paw holding the compress to his ear.

"Take that, yer measly rat!" he muttered as he jabbed at the imaginary foe. "Ain't gonna get by me. Nobeast can beat the blade of Caden Enzo Sken!"

He continued to fight his invisible enemies, making his way into the mess hall. Caden clambered onto a table and pretended to fight off a swam of beasts around him.

"Take that, an' that! Yer lily-livered excuses fer vermin! Yeh ain't nuttin' but blitherin' leverets! Oi, yeh got me ear!" He held out the bloodied cloth to the invisible foe in front of him. "Look what ye did t'me ear. Yer gonna pay fer that!"

He went into a flury of stabs and slices with his small blade, slowly pushing his opponent to the edge of the table.

"Aharr! I got yeh now! Any last words afore I send yeh t'yer death offa th'cliff?"

"Who're you fightin'?"

Caden whirled around. A small, skinny monitor lizard that looked to be near Caden's age had appeared on the table behind him. Though the lizard was taller than Caden by nearly a head, he was so thin Caden likely outweighed him by twenty pounds. The marten growled, menacing him with the blade.

"None o'yer business who I'm fightin', lizard. Who're you?"

The young monitor crossed his arms over his bare, skinny chest. All he wore was a pair of ragged burlap pants held up by a rope. He gave Caden a smug look.

"Maybe dat ain't none o'yer business, eider."

Caden growled and stepped forward. He went to prod the monitor in the chest, but the lizard jumped backwards off the table and sprinted into the galley. Caden sheathed his blade and vaulted off the table after him. The kitchen was dark and quiet save for the creaking of the ship and the faint sounds of activity abovedecks. Caden came to a halt in the small, narrow room, red eyes searching for the intruder.

_BONG_! The young marten fell forward as a heavy frying pan came into contact with the back of his head. He vaguely felt a beast jump on top of him and wrench the knife from his unresponsive paws. He managed to roll over in time to see the lizard leap back, inexpertly holding the blade in what Caden expected was supposed to be a menacing manner. The marten sat up, rubbing the back of his head.

"Don't move, y'fluffy, white weasel," growled the lizard. "I'll stick yeh wid yer fancy knife if y'come any closer."

Caden glowered at him. "I ain't no weasel, mate. I'm a marten. Now gimme my knife back!"

"No way." The lizard shook his head. "Not until y'promise not t'tell anybeast 'bout me bein' 'ere."

The marten cocked his head to the side. "'Course I'm gonna tell somebeast yer here. Think I'm daft? How d'I know yer not just another Misanthropy spy tryin' t'off me Mum"

"Misa-wotsit? Dunno what yer talkin' 'bout. Only beast I'm gonna off is yew if'n yer gonna blab 'bout me bein' 'ere."

Caden sized up the distance between himself and the lizard, noting how the beast was holding the knife. _Obviously __not __familiar __wi' a __blade_. He had been taught how to disarm expert bladebeasts. The lizard would be easy to disarm and disable so long as he didn't run again. _Gotta __get __him __to __come __closer. __Just __keep __him __talkin'..._

"Don't y'think they'd notice a dead beast in th'galley soon enough? Then they'd be scourin' th'ship fer whoever done it. Ain't no way they wouldn't find yer," Caden said with a smug grin. "Anyway, why d'yeh wanna be on this ship wi'out anybeast knowin' yer here?"

The lizard looked furtively about before leaning in closer to Caden and whispering, "'Cause I gotta get away fr—Agh!"

Caden rolled forward to his toes and sprung at the lizard in one smooth motion. They tumbled to the ground, the marten quickly disarming the beast. He held the blade to the beast's throat to still his struggling.

"Stop kickin' me or I'll slit yer throat, lizard!"

The beast immediately ceased any movement, his pale yellow eyes wide with fear. Much to Caden's surprise, the lizard began sobbing.

"Waaaauuugh! Fine, kill me! I'm a dead beast eider way. If'n 'e figures out where I am, 'e's gonna kill me, too. So jus' do it an' get it o'er wid!"

Perplexed but still on guard, Caden questioned further. "Stop blubberin' an' tell me what yer mean. Who's gonna kill yer?"

"M'Pa," the lizard sniffled. "'E's gonna find out I ran away an' drag m'back 'ome t'whallop me good an' 'ard dis time! I ain't gonna take it no more! 'E already killed Ma last mond. Says 'e'll do da same t'me if'n I step outta line." The lizard sniffled again, his voice shaky. "An' I ain't et since last week an' I tried t'take some food from Market Square an' got caught. If'n m'Pa found out, 'e'd kill me fer sure, so I ran away. Now I'm gonna be dead twice, 'cause yer gonna kill me, den Pa's gonna kill me!"

Caden rolled off the lizard, but kept the blade in his paw. The lizard sat up and wiped his nose. Looking at Caden warily.

"M'name's Caden," the marten said. "What's yours?"

"Ro. Ain't y'gonna kill me now?"

Caden sighed, with one last look at the knife, he sheathed it in his belt.

"No." He shot out a clenched paw and punched Ro in the shoulder. "But that's fer whackin' me wi' a frying pan."

Ro rubbed his arm, looking hurt, but then noted Caden's friendly grin. "Oh, er, sorry 'bout dat." He grinned sheepishly.

"An' as fer yeh stayin' 'ere wi'nobeast knowin', I don't think tha's gonna happen."

Ro's grin faded. "So yer gonna 'ave me kicked off?"

"'Course not," Caden said with a wink. "Me Mum's the Captain. Right ole softie she is. It'd break her heart t'hear wha' yer Da's done t'yeh. Soon as y'tell her why y'stole away on her ship, she'll be glad t'have yeh aboard."

* * *

><p>All eyes were on a single beast in the rigging who was clinging to the mainmast two thirds of the way to the top of the mast. The group of applicants on deck was smaller than it had been at the beginning of the exercise. Some were looking upwards with malevolent grins while others seemed worried.<p>

"Now come on, you've made it this far," shouted Sken with her paws cupped about her mouth. "None of us are coming to get you. You've already failed, so may as well get your sorry tail down here. If you're fast enough you'll be home for tea."

"I don't want tea!" whinged the fox. "I just wanna get down!"

Sken rolled her eyes. "I told you, just keep climbing down like you have been. Nobeast is going to help you. You're wasting our time."

"But I can see the deck now! I couldn't see it with the fog. It's too far down!"

"You're no longer an applicant, so that means you're trespassing on my ship. I'm going to have Amos here start taking shots at you if you don't start climbing in five seconds." She began to count down. "Five, four, three..."

The fox began sobbing, clinging only more tightly to the mast.

"...two, one!"

She turned to Amos, who was no grinning. "Buzz him with a few bolts. See if that gets him to move."

The cat nodded and raised his crossbow, sighting down the bolt. With a _tung_ the bolt was released and shot towards the whining fox. He yelped as the bolt buzzed past the left side of his head.

"Wauuugh! I'm comin' down, I'm comin' down. Don't kill me!" He began a slow descent.

Sken's eyes gleamed. "Give him a couple more to speed him up. We don't have all morning for this."

The cat let off two more bolts, the both of which came within inches of the fox's head. The majority of the applicants were snickering at the beast's plight.

"Zervez 'im right fer climbin' ze riggin' vhen 'e'z afraid of heightz," hissed the large female monitor to Amos. The cat chuckled and nodded.

"Aye. I 'eard 'im talkin' on 'is way 'ere. Guess 'e's some fop's son who wants t'run away t'sea. Too bad 'e didn't get some practice climbin' before 'e decided t'join up. Though, wi' the sort o'beasts the Navy's recruitin' these days, maybe they'll take 'im. Our most _competent_ Emperor ain't too keen on quality control anymore t'seems."

Sken looked at Amos, who was eyeing her with a cryptic expression. She was unsure whether he was being accusatory or expecting her to challenge him on the matter. Did he know who she was? The marteness chose to ignore his comments for the time being. Based on his credentials, Amos was going to be part of her crew, but she wanted to be sure of his motives before putting her trust in him. Just her luck he would be a Misanthropy agent looking to off her. No, he would have done it already if he were. Unless they wanted her alive.

A cry from above brought her out of her thoughts. The applicants around her gasped in unison as the fox lost his grip and plummeted towards the deck. _Just __what __I __need, __another __dead __body __on __my __ship_. Fortunately, the fox became entangled in the ratlines and was stopped before he had fallen more than fifteen feet. His screech was cut short and turned into a squeal of pain as he jerked to a stop, the ropes cutting into his legs.

"And that's why fops should remain as fops and not try to do anything that requires them to take off their hose and cravat," she muttered. _Then __again_, she thought. _I __was __much __the __same __when __I __ran __away __from __my __privileged __life __not __that __long __ago. __I __seem __to __remember __getting __stuck __in __the __rigging __on __more __than __one __occasion._ The memory made the corners of her lips twitch with the ghost of a smile. However, it did not last long as the fox began screeching in a manner that reminded Sken of a screaming kitten.

"For 'Gates sake, shut up you nitwit!" she yelled. Then she was up amongst the rigging, climbing the ropes with fluid, strong motions, completely in her element in the heights above the ship. At twenty five years of age, she was young for a Captain, but her youthfulness made her strong and fast, and she reached the entrapped fox in a matter of minutes. He grabbed at her, sniveling and gurgling in panic.

"Oh, shut up." A sharp rap of her paw to the right side of his head silenced him, and he went limp. She looked down at the beasts assembled below as they applauded her efforts. "I need three of you up here. Amos, Dhareikka and you, fox, what was your name?"

The fox in question, a tall, muscular beast in his late twenties with black paws, footpaws, snout and ears and striking golden eyes raised his paw. "Name's Vandler, Captain."

"Vandler, you come up here, too. We need to untangle this lump of a beast and get him down to the deck."

The three beasts chosen quickly began climbing. Sken noted that Amos favored his left shoulder, likely an injury from the Army. The limp did not hinder his climbing, however. Dhareikka was slower, not appearing to be a natural climber. Sken guess she had not been on a ship until the past several seasons. Vandler was the first to reach her, breathing lightly, a confident gleam in his eyes.

"You've had some experience on a ship." It was a statement rather than a question, for it was obvious the fox knew what he was doing.

"Aye," he nodded. "Been workin' on ships since I was eight. Ain't no other place t'be, in my opinion."

The cat and monitor caught up. It was a tedious process getting the unconscious fox from the rigging. Using several pieces of the knot tying rope Vandler had put in his pocket, they tied the beast's wrists and ankles so that he unconsciously clung to Dhareikka, the largest and strongest of the quartet, if not the best climber.

Upon reaching the deck, the fox was unceremoniously carried off the ship and dumped at the bottom of the gangplank.

Once the recruits were assembled once more, the next task was for Sken to determine whether or not these beasts were actually competent in the rigging when it came to performing tasks. She had weeded out the worst of them, but the main thing she needed to know was how well the remainder could follow orders.

Within twenty minutes of blowing commands on the Bosun's whistle and, when that failed to elicit the proper response from half the beasts, shouting the orders, Sken decided she would need to lower her standards if she were to have more than twenty crewbeasts. A schooner like the _Rogue_ needed sixty to seventy crewbeasts to sail, and already she was down to seventy five applicants. She had not even put them through the sparring paces.

Sken had just sent yet another applicant home when she noticed Torrent climbing from the hatch, a grave look on his face. She had been wondering where the ferret had gotten to. Ordering everybeast down from the rigging, Sken approached Torrent. When she saw two beasts appear from the hatch behind him, her expression hardened. She stopped in front of them, eyebrows arched.

"What's this all about?"

Caden stuck out his chin and met his mother's eyes.

"This is Ro, an' 'e's gonna be a member o'the crew."

"Is he now?" Sken glanced at Torrent. "Where'd he come from?"

The ferret shrugged. "Best as I can guess is he stowed away. Caden just found him in the galley."

Sken looked hard at Ro. "And what do you have to say for yourself, lizard? No lies. I already had one spy on my ship, and I'm in a foul mood to be dealing with another."

" 'E's not a spy!" Caden blurted. Sken silenced him with a glare. The lizard looked at his grimy footpaws."

"I stowed 'way, yeah," he said in a shaking voice. "But it's only 'cause me Da's gonna kill me. He killed me Ma, see? An' den I gone an' make 'im mad an' now I gotta run someplace 'e can't find me or else I'm gonna be dead afore dinner." He looked up at Sken, tears bubbling from his large, reptilian eyes. "So please, mum, lemme stay onna ship an' be a member o'yer crew!"

Sken's face was impassive.

"Aw, come on, Captain, let the mite stay! He's naught but a wee laddie."

The marteness looked over her shoulder to where the voice had come from amongst the crew of applicants. A middle-aged female wildcat who stood in the front of the group had spoken. Sken could not recall her name, though it was obvious by the feline's accent that she hailed from the Northlands. The marteness sighed and turned back to Ro. She set her jaw.

"Caden, take him and go stand over there. Stay out of the way. We'll talk when we're done."

"But Mum—" Caden began.

"No arguing, Caden," Sken cut him off sharply. He looked as though he was going to argue more, but Torrent put a paw on the young marten's shoulder and shook his head. Caden crossed his arms over his chest. He glared at his mother before grabbing Ro's paw and pulling the lizard to the spot against the railing Sken had indicated. Ro looked completely terrified. Sken rolled her eyes at Torrent before motioning the ferret to help her pull a crate of practice weapons back to where the other beasts stood.

"This day is certainly not without excitement," she said with some exasperation upon reaching the group of beasts. The applicants chuckled. She continued on. "Congratulations to those of you who have made it this far. Now, as you're well aware, the seas are a dangerous place with many beasts who would be glad to part an honest merchant with their wares. Many a merchant Captain has failed to select a crew with the abilities to fend off such pirates. I do not plan on making that same mistake. I have various practice weapons that you may choose from. Pick what you are most comfortable with and pair up. You will spar for five minutes while Torrent and I watch. Any questions?"

A paw was raised in the back of the group.

"Can I go home for tea?"

Sken snorted. "Yes, you may. Don't come back, whoever you are."

Guffaws came from the other applicants.

"Any other questions?" Sken asked with eyebrows arched in annoyance. No paws were raised. "Good, begin."

Once again, it became quickly apparent to Sken that she would have to lower her standards in order to have a large enough crew for her ship. Already she had sent four more beasts home for proving to be utterly incompetent with any sort of weapon. One beast had even tried to fight with the hilt of a wooden practice sword, holding it by the blade end. She had to keep reminding herself that there was always on-ship drills and training once they were underway.

Despite the setbacks, there were a few that showed considerable skill and competency. Without surprise, Amos and Dhareikka were showing they knew full well how to handle themselves. Vandler also showed great skill with the wooden cutlass he wielded. A teenage marteness by the name of Radmira, tall and built like a whipcord, was thoroughly trouncing the female rat with whom she was sparring. It was not for lack of trying or skill on the rat's part. It was because Radmira wielded a staff with skill Sken had never seen. Another pair, twin brother and sister weasels, were amazing to watch. It was as though they were partners in a dance, moving with such fluid precision it looked almost choreographed. Until the female twin, Ingrid, landed a shot with her practice sword square between her brother's legs. He groaned and dropped his weapon, falling to the deck. Ingrid rushed to him.

"Oh gosh, 'Den, I'm so sorry! You okay?"

There came a muttered response from the prone weasel, Ogden. Sken hid a smile and strode up to the pair. They were several years younger than the Captain, just entering their twenties, but, judging by the brightness of their faces, had seen far less of the world and the pains of life than she had at that age.

"Good hit, Miss Tableau. Don't worry, he'll be right as rain in a few hours." She helped Ogden to his footpaws. He wobbled a moment before leaning on his sister, who smiled tentatively at him.

"Alright, time's up!" Sken shouted to the rest of the crew. The clattering of wooden weapons came to a halt. Several beasts were helped to their footpaws by their sparring partners while others bent over, paws on knees, wheezing for breath. There were seventy beasts left. Most showed decent skill, though some of them would have a rough first weeks as they became accustomed to her expectations. She had learned to sail in the Navy, and her military training made Sken far more hard-nosed than the majority of freelance merchant Captains.

"Congratulations to those of you left. You are now crewbeasts of_ The_ _Blue __Rogue_. We have five days before we put out to sea. You will report tomorrow morning at seven with only a seabag of belongings. Your payment will begin once we complete our first voyage. Unless there are any questions I will see you one at a time in my office to sign you into the ship's manifest."

Thirty minutes later, the last of the new crewbeasts left the ship, whistling a jaunty sea shanty, excited with the prospect of a new voyage. The sun was high in the sky, nearly noon. Sken stood on the deck with Torrent.

"Well, it could've gone worse, eh?"

Torrent shrugged, paws in his pockets. "I expect so."

The marteness stood and walked to where her son and Ro were sitting. They were dangling their paws through the gaps in the railing. When she came closer, Sken could hear Caden telling Ro one of her stories from when she sailed with the Navy. It was his favorite, the one about the ice island inhabited with cannibal hares.

Noticing Sken's shadow over them, Caden stopped talking. He and Ro stood and faced her. Ro looked down at the deck, thin shoulders slumped in defeat. Sken found herself wanting to feed the half-starved monitor a good meal and give him a good washing before getting him into some proper clothes.

"Ro, is it?" she said to the young lizard. He nodded meekly, still looking at the ground.

"Look at me," she commanded. Ro looked up. Sken could see the fear in his eyes.

"How old are you?"

"Five, mum," Ro whimpered. There was a hint of a sob in his voice.

"Five," Sken repeated. _Such __hardships __this __world __puts __on __beasts __so __young_. "Can you follow orders without question and pledge your undying allegiance to me as your Captain?"

Caden looked at his mother hopefully. She winked at him. Ro noticed the look passing between mother and son, and his own expression brightened with a flicker of hope.

"Aye, mum, er, Cap'n."

"Good," Sken said. "Then your first assignment will be to go with Caden and get a bucket. Fill it with water and give yourself a good bath. I will be checking afterwards to make sure you're washed to my standards. No dirt under you claws or anything like that, got it?"

"Yes, Cap'n!"

"The both of you are dismissed." She watched as they scurried away in excitement and dove down the hatch. The marteness shook her head.

"Am I too soft?" she asked Torrent. The ferret smiled.

"No, marm, you have a heart where it counts."

Sken raised an eyebrow at him, quirking a wry smile. "Where it counts, eh? At least you say I've got one at all. Many beasts would tell me I'd lost it many years ago."

"Probably helps that I only knew you through reputation in those years," Torrent admitted. "But one doesn't become Minister of War through acts of compassion and kindness."

The marteness leaned against the railing and looked with darkened eyes at the city of Bully Harbor. In the heat of the day, she could smell the squalid stench rising from the streets as it did every day in the summer. One became used to it, but the smell brought with it many shadowed memories of dark times past, times of death and fire that screamed through those streets. Friends turned enemies, some of their lives snuffed out by her own blade. She could see their faces, hear their voices. They would haunt her forever, she knew. Power came with a price. Nobeast ever told her how costly it would be when she took the promotions. It came at the price of her emotions, her sanity, and, eventually her life.

Sometimes she wished she had stayed dead, wished the Ministry officials had not brought her back with their medicines and potions that counteracted the poison of the dagger stuck in her side that fateful day on the beach. She recalled death being tranquil, quiet, peaceful, all of which she could hardly remember experiencing in her short life. But then she was pulled from that warm, dark place and thrust back into the cold, harsh world, presumed dead and having to hide her identity from those beasts who were happy she was expired. The beasts now in power. The new Emperor, Vladimir Ullyanov, who had once been her friend before he joined Misanthropy, before corruption darkened his heart and mind. It was his poisoned dagger in her ribs that had sent her into dark oblivion. It was his craving for power that had torn her from her beloved Imperium. Now she was running, running from it all because that was all she could do.

* * *

><p>Sken was in her office, sorting through the disturbed papers from earlier in the morning when there came a knock upon her door.<p>

"Enter."

Torrent led in two Fogeys, a male rat and a female stoat. She noted with satisfaction that the new Mayor had once again imposed the strict rule of non-lethal weapons for his Force, for the Fogeys carried only a truncheon and knife in their belts. At least something was going right in the Imperium. By the bars on their sleeves indicating their rank, Sken could see that they were both Constables. She nodded to Torrent, and the ferret stepped out of the room, leaving the door open.

"How can I help you, officers?" the marteness asked pleasantly.

"A complaint was filed by a Missertross Gull for abuse. He cited you and your son, Mrs...?"

"It's Miss, actually. My husband died several years ago. You will call me Captain while aboard my ship. As to this complaint, I would like to note that the gull in question was under suspicion of trespassing in my cabin and going through my files. I took necessary precautions until the matter was resolved, at which time the gull was allowed to leave. Now, if you wish to waste more of my time, you may stay here and maybe I'll find something useful for you to do other than reprimand me for a supposed crime I did not commit. However, if you would like to get on with your day and let me get on with mine, then I would advise that you leave."

There was the span of several seconds while the Constables gaped at her. Sken stood, one paw clearly moving towards the sword resting on its hilt next to her desk. She noticed the rat take a small, unconscious step backwards.

"We could have our Sector Commander on you," the female stoat warned. Sken chuckled.

"For what? You know very well that this sort of thing doesn't merit attention from a Commander. They've got more important things to do like bully beasts in the Bilge or clean up after the Platycodon kills five more beasts on the Misanthropy blacklist." There came a sharp intake of breath from both of the Constables. Sken grinned maliciously at them.

"Oh, is that supposed to be a secret or something? Some fine piece of intelligence that is, if a lowly merchant Captain such as myself knows it." She knew very well that her knowledge of such things was not commonplace. In fact, she likely knew more about the situation than the other Ministries did. Considering she had once borne the mask of the Indigo Platycodon, the dark, murderous vigilante of Bully Harbor, it was part of her business to know who her successor was. The fact that the vigilante had been bought by Misanthropy, just like everything else worth anything in the town, greatly irked her. What made it worse was that the current Platycodon had been something of her ward when she had taken on the role. The young fox, Caper, who had now grown into a powerful, dangerous dogfox under the training of MAUL, a Faction of Misanthropy, had once been innocent and uncorrupted. When Sken left, he was taken under Vlad's wing and turned into something of a monster. She still shuddered at the thought of meeting with him again one day.

"We will put the report filed against you up for review," the stoatess said firmly. "You will be summoned to court for a hearing."

Sken picked up her sword and buckled it onto her belt. "Very good. Hope to see you two there. Now, off you go."

She stepped out from behind the desk. They retreated from the room. Sken followed them out and up the hatch to the main deck. She watched as they hustled to the gangplank and onto the busy docks. It usually took at least two weeks for a court summons. The marteness planned on being far from Bully Harbor by then.

Sken drew her sword and held it in front of her, regarding the well-oiled blade. She pointed it towards the sea, a dark-blue patch of water on the other side of the harbor.

"Soon, my friend. Soon we will sail."


	3. Chapter 2, A Deal is Struck

The _Rogue _fairly flew over the gentle swells of the calm Humidor seas, the blue figurehead of a fearsome sea monster upon the bow plunging into the clear water and rising again, glistening in the warm sunlight. They had pushed off from the docks in the harbor at dawn. Now it was midmorning, and the twin lighthouses of Bully Harbor were mere smudges in the distance. The rolling shoreline of Vulpinsula, the largest island in the Imperium, and that on which were Bully Harbor and Amarone, the capitol of the Imperium, was three miles off their port side as they sailed south. To starboard was open ocean as far as the eye could see. Those were the Northwest Waters, and beyond them was a blank map for the beasts of the Imperium. Even Sken, in all her years of sailing, had not found land in that direction.

The marteness held the wheel steady, tricorn hat pulled low over her eyes as shade from the sun. A strange swirl of emotions flowed through her with the prospect of her first voyage as a Freelancer, a beast part merchant, part explorer, part adventurer and, as the Navy viewed Freelancers, part pirate. Upon leaving Bully Harbor with no intention to return to the city in the near future, Sken had expected to feel something resembling sadness. However, all the Captain had experienced was a sense of closure, almost as though she and the city were bidding each other a sarcastic _good riddance_. It was not until they pushed past the Navy docks that something caught in her throat and she had to force back her tears. For all the misery she had experienced, the best years of her life thus far were spent as a crewbeast, officer and eventually Captain in the Navy. It was just as well the two ships she held most allegiance to—the _Skeered of Nothing _and _The Golden Hide_—were not in port, or else she may have broken down completely. Torrent had then put a comforting paw on her shoulder as she took a deep shuddering breath and steered the _Rogue_ out towards the sea before the sun cracked over the horizon.

Now, with the fresh wind of freedom whipping past her whiskers and the sun warming her back, Sken felt an elation she could hardly remember experiencing. She had a faint recollection of feeling like this back when she had first Captained the _Hide_ or the first time she had climbed to the crow's nest without being afraid for her life. It was a sensation as freeing as that of flight in one's dreams, when all inhibitions are blown away and everything becomes pure energy and joy. The darkness of her soul was in retreat, driven into temporary hiding, for it could not withstand against the happiness that filled her. She found herself whistling a jaunty tune and tapping her claws against the wheel as her eyes shone, the same depths of blue as the sunlit sea.

Routine was quickly established upon the ship in the first few days of sailing. The watches were set, and those crewbeasts unused to strict protocol became accustomed to such things rather rapidly. Two combat training sessions occurred each day, one during the morning watch from four to eight and one during the afternoon watch from noon to four. The crew was split so that each crewbeast attended one training session each day. Topics covered ranged from paw to paw combat to on-ship defense and maneuvering. They were taught field commands that were essential for proper communication during raids, and those that showed promise in leadership were promoted. Vandler, the fox who had helped drag the panicking beast from the rigging, became Second Mate, as he was an adept navigator and had held the position previously on several ships. Sken immediately singled Amos out for boatswain. With his lifelong experience as an officer in the Army, he was a natural at relaying commands and keeping beasts on task. She assigned Ingrid and Ogden as Aides. The weasel twins were good readers and writers, and they were very enthusiastic about numbers and accounting. Sken was more than willing to allow them to keep her paperwork organized under her supervision. In the span of three days they had created a filing system for all her paperwork and had set to organizing her financial assets.

With a routine and command system set in place, Sken was feeling rather confident about their first voyage. Torrent, however, had been quiet for much of the time he and the Captain spent together. On the fourth night, Sken was eating dinner in her quarters when somebeast knocked upon the door. Torrent entered at her bidding. Sken pushed a chair out from the table with her foot.

"Sit, eat," she said to the First Mate. He took hold of the back of the chair, but did not sit.

"Nuori, I've been thinking..."

The marteness quirked an eyebrow at him. "I'd noticed. I was wondering when you'd say something. Taking your time, aren't you?"

"Aye," he nodded apologetically. "I wanted to make sure what I had to say was sound before voicing my concerns."

Sken motioned for him to sit. "Well, tell me. Sit, no need to stand."

Torrent slid into the seat and fiddled with the salt shaker in front of him. "Well, it's like this. We've a good crew. They work together well so far, follow orders well, are just about anything you could want out of a crew, really. But I wonder how good they'll be when we actually get into action. Raiding a village, even a woodlander village in Tookumberry, is risky. We'll be breaking at least a dozen laws, not to mention drawing the attention of the Navy who will try to arrest us given what we'll be doing down there. While this crew knew what they were signing up for, doing something like this as our first action might not be the smartest idea. Maybe with a veteran crew it would be possible, but with these beasts, however experienced each individual might be, I don't know how confident I am that they can raid efficiently as a crew."

The marteness chewed thoughtfully. When she swallowed, there were several moments of silence between the two beasts before she spoke. "Do you think I haven't made accommodations for our situation?"

"I trust you, but this could be disastrous—"

"Torrent," Sken said flatly. "You're worse than my mother."

The ferret folded his arms over his chest and glared at her. "As your First Mate, I should know your plans. You can't keep me in the dark like this all the time. If this is going to work you need to communicate with me."

Sken rolled her eyes, putting down her silverware with slightly too much force and looking at the ferret with annoyance. "Are you questioning my ability to Captain this ship?"

"Did I say that? Nuori, I just want to be involved in the leadership of this crew. You made me First Mate after all, so I would expect that I'll be able to work alongside you and be involved in making the plans for our voyages."

The marteness sighed and rubbed her temples. "Alright, then. You want to know the plans? Once we make port in Parva I'm going to find a Captain to share in our venture. I know of several likely candidates who are thick enough to fall for what I've got planned."

"And what exactly do you have planned for the lucky beast and their crew?"

Sken furrowed her brow at him. "You make it sound criminal. I'm going to have them provide a distraction for the Naval vessel that'll be patrolling the waters while we have an uninterrupted raid."

"That is criminal," Torrent said. "In case you'd forgotten the meaning of the word."

"Torrent." She leaned over and looked hard at the ferret. "There's a reason the Navy considers Freelancers pirates. We work on both sides of the law. You knew very well what our work would entail when _you_ signed on, so what's your complaint? I've told you the plans, which I think will work out very well, so what else do you want?"

The ferret drummed his claws on the tabletop, his demeanor becoming more thoughtful than accusatory. "I don't know, it just seems very risky..."

Sken seemed to notice the change in his mannerisms, for she leaned back, a faint smile on her face. "And that's why I'm the Captain. If you were in charge of this ship we'd be broke a month into our employ. It's going to work out just fine, you'll see. I have a record of all the Navy commands in the area for a three week window. I know all the comings and goings of the Naval ships, so we can slip in between patrols and let some dimwitted pirate take the fire for us."

Torrent looked alarmed. "Where did you get those records?"

"I still have some inside connections," she said, tapping the side of her nose knowingly. "Many of which are as malcontent as I am about the change in regime. They were more than happy to help our cause."

"That's risky, even for you," Torrent chided. "No wonder we had a Misanthropy assassin on the ship."

Sken snorted and shook her head. "Nothing has come if it. I'll be fine."

"We're not out of the Imperium yet."

The marteness raised an eyebrow. "So, you have anything else to scold me about, mother?"

Torrent shook his head, pushing himself up from his seat. He leaned on the table for a moment, looking at the marteness with a questioning gaze. "Nothing else, no. I just hope this plan of yours doesn't go awry."

The ferret stepped away and walked towards the door. He put a paw on the knob, but stopped and turned before exiting the room. "And Nuori, in the future, please include me when you're making plans for this ship and crew. I have just as much as you invested in our venture."

...

...

The island of Parva had been nicknamed "The Smallest Island" by a clever beast sometime in the long history of the Imperium. Indeed, it was one of the smallest islands around the island of Vulpinsula. It lay to the southeast of the main island and was crowded with the homes of well-off beasts. The atmosphere of the place was far different than that of Bully Harbor; there was no haze of stench in the streets and the citizenry themselves were far more well-groomed. Even at the docks the majority of ships obviously belonged to beasts with gilders to spare. Most were pleasure ships or those owned by trading companies. The _Rogue_, which was one of the better looking merchant ships in Bully Harbor, looked to be only mediocre compared to some of the gleaming monstrosities it was docked beside.

"Four decks," Sken muttered as she gazed up at one of the trading company ships in the bright light of early afternoon. "What merchant needs four bloody decks?"

"Four bloody decks, four bloody decks!" Caden sing-songed beside her, twirling an empty sling and skipping on the planks of the dock.

"Four bloody decks an' a bottle o'rum!" Ro joined in tunefully. The young monitor was already looking far better off than when he had first come aboard. His dark green scales had a healthy sheen to them, and though he was still skinny, he looked less like a starving street urchin.

Sken turned upon the two young beasts, pointing a pawfinger at them. "Where do you two think you're off to? I told you that you were to stay on the ship."

"But Mum!" Caden said with woeful eyes. "Yeh never let us do anythin' fun. We don't wanna stay on th'ship an' polish railin's or summat."

"Polish railings? Who said you were going to polish railings? I've told Amos to give you two lessons in grappling while I'm gone. But I guess if you don't want to wrestle with Uncle Amos, you can come along with me and walk through the city all afternoon, listening to me talk to other beasts about business." Sken's eyes sparkled mischievously as she watched the two youngbeasts waver in their resolve to follow her.

"Is Torrent gonna make us do arithmetic?" Caden asked.

Sken shook her head. "No arithmetic today. I had actually overhead Torrent talking about making you two your own fishing poles so that you can fish over the side of the ship."

Ro and Caden looked at each other, grinning. Then the two friends dashed back to the _Rogue_.

"Bye, Mum!" Caden called over his shoulder. Sken laughed and waved. She continued on her way down the docks and into the city.

The marteness had been to Parva several times during her service with the Navy, and again as a Minister, but it had been several years since she had been to the small port city. It had not changed much, however, perhaps only becoming cleaner than it had been the last time she had visited. She avoided the Stoatorian Guard post, giving the place a wide berth of several blocks. Sken ran the risk of being recognized anywhere in the Imperium, but those most likely to know who she was were those in the Guard and the Navy, as she had worked closely with both.

Though Parva was a clean town filled with mostly fops and other rich folk, it did have its seedier sections. The streets became less well-kept and the beasts looked more paranoid and dangerous. Sken felt far more comfortable on those streets than in the nicer parts of town. At least these beasts didn't hide their intentions with a clean smile and fashionable trousers. It was very obvious that they were sizing her up as she passed through the street on her way to her destination. From her own observations of the beasts passing her by, most did not have ill intentions, but there were a certain few who knew she was an outsider and were keen to take advantage of a femme traveling by herself.

She cut through an alley to avoid a Guard patrol. Footpaws scuffled behind her, and she glanced back to see three beasts, two male rats and a female weasel, hurry to catch up to her from the street. An easy smile on her face, Sken turned upon them, no hint of urgency or fear to her movements.

"Can I help you?" she asked in a pleasant voice.

"Er, yuh," said the bigger of the two rats. "Yer c'n give us all yer gilders an' anythin' else yeh've got o'value. 'Specially yer fancy sword there."

"Ya, wouldn't want a nice-lookin' beast like yerself getting' hurt carryin' 'round a big ol' sword like tha'," the female weasel said with a guffaw.

Sken raised her eyebrows at the trio. She heard two pairs of footpaws approaching slowly from behind her, but made no indication that she had noticed. "And why should I acquiesce to your request?"

"Akky-wha'?" The third rat scratched his head with confusion. "Are yeh mockin' us?"

"No, of course not my good rat," the marteness said. "I simply wonder why three upstanding citizens such as yourselves would want to take my belongings, and why I should comply with your demands. It seems rather unreasonable for me to part with what rightfully belongs to me for no better reason than because you want it, don't you think?"

The weaseless snarled and drew a knife, pointing it threateningly at Sken. "Yew talk too much, an' I don' like beasts wha' talk fancy like yew."

From behind her, Sken sensed that the beasts approaching were nearly upon her. She could certainly smell them now that they were within paw's reach. _Couldn't today have happened without any life-threatening excitement?_

The marteness shot out her paws at the weasel, taking the beast by surprise. In the same motion, Sken stepped to the side and pulled the weasel towards the two beasts, a stoat and a rat, who had been sneaking up behind her. She deftly tripped the fumbling beast and sent her flailing into the stoat and rat. Without waiting to see what happened to the three beasts, Sken careened out of the alley from the direction she had entered. One of the rats tried to get in her way, but Sken lowered her shoulder and caught him a glancing blow that sent him reeling into a pile of barrels. Then she was out of the alleyway and came to a halt face-to-face with the patrol of four Guards. The highest ranking beast among them stared at Sken with too much recognition for the marten's liking.

"Muggers!" she said breathlessly, then dodged past the patrol and sprinted down the street, her sword thumping in its hilt at her side. Sken did not stop until she was three blocks away. She pressed her back against a wall and caught her breath, listening for any signs of pursuit. The Guards, however, seemed to have gone to investigate the gang of thieves rather than giving her chase. Wiping sweat from her brow, Sken crossed the street to her original destination, The Slaughtered Stoat, a tavern with as much renown in Parva as The Bilge in the Bucket held in Bully Harbor.


End file.
